Nocturnal Reveries
by skydog91
Summary: Daryl Dixon starts out as a bullied teenager and ends up being the most wanted psychotic lunatics. Inspired by the Hannibal Lecter series! Warning: My story is cursed so words and letters change even after reuploading. My apologizes.
1. Chapter 1

Nocturnal Reveries

Chapter 1

In a Victorian-designed house twenty miles from the nearest city, a teenage boy sits in his room with his stereo playing _Dream Police_. He had just gotten home from his first day at school, which was proving to be very difficult as the kids at school would heckle about his attire. Leather jackets, band t-shirts, and an assortment of other clothing influenced by the punk rock invasion filled his closet. His name was Daryl Dixon, and many people would never forget the name.  
"Daryl! Supper's ready honey!" the voice rang through the halls. Daryl knew his mother tried very hard to be a pleasing mother, but every night the meals would consist of overcooked meats and dry taters. "I'll be down after this song!" Daryl shouted with a rather embarrassing high pitch tone. Daryl had dreamed of the day of being eighteen and living on his own and not having to eat her dried food anymore.

A floral display filled with hibiscus and other exotic plants sat at the end of the hallway, which to Daryl smelled better than the actual meal he was headed for. Supper was just as Daryl had assumed overcooked catfish and dry green beans and taters. He wasn't enthralled by the look of it. He walked away after a couple bites.

The ostentatious appearance of the Dixon family wasn't liked by many of their neighbors. Mrs. Dixon would show off her newest jewelry and Mr. Dixon would show off his newest vehicle accessory or high-value purchases. Daryl would receive nothing but ten dollars a month for chores. The chores consisted of milking Tawny the cow, doing the dishes, laundry, and other task that his mother refused to do after her job as a waitress in town. His father was a mechanic for 's Autobody, and worked what appeared to be a forty hour a week job.

As nightfall came and the owls sang their nocturnal reveries, Daryl began finishing up his acrostic poetry. His poetry was very sinister and dearly sorrowful. A midnight storm began rolling in as the new day approached. Dark thoughts filled his mind.

Daryl headed downstairs into the kitchen after finishing his newest poem "Suffering: My Presentation". In the den, he could see his now drunken father spread out on the couch snoring like a loud muffler. "I can do this, I know I can" Daryl said hiding his secrets deep inside. Daryl opened the counter which contained basic and dangerous kitchen utensils. In the back of cabinet, laid a just sharpened a Cutlery dagger as Daryl grasped a hold of it.

He began to approach his father in a ruthless progression. He flung his arm back and the dagger flew into his father's neck. His father awoke screaming in agony as Daryl pulled the blade out and began the slaughter. Twenty stabs and a deathless stare towards his suffering father Daryl continued to stab. His father, in a pool of maroon blood, was lying on the couch with a soul that had ascended into to gates of heaven or hell. His mother was awoken by the screams and was staring upon the stairs and began to charge at her son. "What have you done? Oh Jesus Christ save us!" his mother screamed and began breaking down almost asphyxiating on her own mucus. "I'm sending you to the juvenile hall and hope to never see your ruthless ass again!" His mother began shouting swinging her fist, just barely gracing Daryl's chin. Daryl began to ponder his next move, like a prolate spheroid football that remains in the quarterback's hands as he's being chased. Daryl stealthy began to walk away as his mother leaned over to kiss her now faded husband. Her malicious stare and words were still ringing in his head; he headed for his bedroom closet. He began to pack his clothing in a small plastic sack, and found his Batara matchbox that his grandpa had given to him in his death will. He struck the match with a mighty force, and threw a few matches down the hall. He escaped through his bedroom window. That'd be the last time he saw his parents alive.

Daryl stopped at a gas station in the city the following day. A newspaper stand held newspaper that reports said "Woman and Man die in a Victorian house fire" with the paragraph reading:

_Police are reporting that a married couple has died in a countryside house fire. The man appeared to be stabbed around several hundred times before the incident leading police to believe this is a homicide. If anyone has any further information about this incident they can call the local police office at 835-352-2512. _

Dozens of families passed the stand with a sorrowful look in their eyes, one even asking Daryl "That's so horrible huh?" Daryl nodded and continued on his walk towards salvation.


	2. Chapter 2

Nocturnal Reveries

Chapter 2

Daryl continued to take thousands of steps after leaving the gas station behind, which now didn't appear in sight. He assumed he had left town completely. The drought of the lands was very lucid as Daryl's footsteps crushed the dirt with each step. Daryl entered the woodlands to the northwest to make the walk a little bit more comfortable.  
The woodlands had a vast variety of mammals that Daryl remembered hunting with his uncle a few years back. White-tailed deer, cottontail rabbits, and raccoon scurried in the distance appearing as playground children chasing each other in circles. Daryl continued his journey to the northwest, picking up earthworms and swallowing them as they squirmed for their souls. After walking for several hours, Daryl came to a meadow.

The meadow was filled with pampas grass and several deer mice that rushed to their underground homes. Daryl sat in the center of the grass; it was a great way to camouflage him from any police enforcement that was searching for him for the time being.

The next day sprawled up and as Daryl was exiting the grass to continue his journey, he began to hear barking coming from the south. "Oh shit, its police force canines" Daryl thought as he began to race towards the entrance to the woods in the north. He climbed a nearby oak tree and pulled out his pocket knife to sharpen twigs into spears. Daryl could hear the voices of the officers in the distance,

"He's got to be around here somewhere" "No the canine isn't going to mislead us!" "Let's try these woods over here" The footsteps got closer.

Daryl took aim at the entrance of the woods as he prepared for attack. The officers appeared with a large German shepherd. Daryl tossed the homemade spears at the officer to the left, it missed.

"What the hell was that? Someone's in here!"

The dog was set off his leash and began to sniff all around after being whispered some orders.

Daryl knew he'd have to make a leap to another tree to escape their setup. He emerged from the other side of the leaves and leaped towards another tree. The sound startled the officers and they came rushing towards the tree in which he had leapt from. Daryl took aim at the officer to the right this time. The spear impaled into the officer's eye socket and Daryl descended from the tree and began to escape.

From the distance he could hear the officer dispatching for an ambulance and Daryl knew he had finally escaped.

The breeze from the north began to pick up; he assumed around ten to twenty miles per hour. Looking from a distance, a large majestic hill with a small tavern shaped building was in sight. Daryl, pushing against the wind, began running towards the building in hopes of getting directions from someone.

The tavern appeared to have no sign of life, the flower bed was empty and the tire swing in the tree was broken. He approached the door, grabbed the circular handle and banged on the door.


	3. Chapter 3

Nocturnal Reveries

Chapter 3

The door of the cabin creaked open; its musty smell ran through Daryl's nostrils. It was filled with ancient artifacts that appeared to be still in use. An eighteenth century spinning wheel held a quilt in its place and looked to be still a work in progress. An elderly lady stood up from her rocking chair, and held her arms out as though she hadn't seen a sign of life in years. "Oh! You handsome man I could just squeeze your little cheeks and call you my son." She brought him a cup of green tea, specifically brewed from natural ingredients and a recipe that her mother had taught her.

"Are you alone?" Daryl said staring around for any photographs of family. "Yes, my husband passed away… "The old woman said pausing to remember how long it has been. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that ma'am" Daryl said with his head hanging down and continued "Well is there anything I can do for you?" "Actually, I could use a strong man like yourself for daily task if you don't mind staying." The old woman said with an immaculate white smile. Daryl had never seen such white teeth on an elderly human being. Daryl was the handyman for the lady, but he felt discretion about not telling her what he'd done to his family. The woman's wealth shined upon everything she owned. The thousands of diamonds that lay in her lariat necklace, a chest of pirate gold derived from her grandfather, and many other scintillating foreign objects.

Nights and days passed as the night owls would hoot their nightly lullabies, and the rooster would wake the farmers. As three weeks passed, Daryl began to realize he couldn't take being a slave to this woman anymore. As night approached, Daryl approached the lady from behind as she slept comfortably in her chair. He gripped his hands around her throat; asphyxiation was the easiest way he thought. She began swinging her arms; she was pretty tough for an old woman. He ran over to the cabinets and grabbed the largest butcher knife, and stabbed it into her esophagus. He viciously stabbed the woman as blood spewed from her body. Her lifeless body laid on the floor and her organs began to become visible as Daryl's hunger levels increased. He began to cut her stomach open more and took out piles of flesh and began ingesting them. Chewy and delicious he thought to himself.

The next morning arrived and the flower bed began to show its first signs of life. A small snapdragon plant was arising from the ground, and honey bees swarmed in from the southeast to get the first taste of the floral landscape. Daryl was ransacking the old woman's house and began storing her most expensive processions into his pockets so he could sell them to pawn shops along the way. Daryl made his way to his next destination.

The outside world appeared more flamboyant than Daryl had seen before. The apple trees were beginning to show signs of their red apples. Dozens of farmer's fields were filled with corn, cabbage, and other fruits and vegetables. Daryl's teeth were stained with the human blood from his cannibalism, and his mouth still had dried blood surrounding his lips. He walked over to a nearby stream and washed the dried blood off and used folded-up lily pads to brush the blood off his teeth. Both features began to appear more pristine.

Daryl continued his walk towards what now he remembered as the town of Yorkenstine, it was a small town of less than two-thousand people. Yorkenstine was known for its low crime rate and high percentage of college graduate students. It housed some of the world's finest fashion designers and lawyers. Daryl was anticipating how much money he was going to make from the local pawn shop owners in town. He still had around one hundred miles to go to reach his destination though.

Nightfall came and Daryl rested his head on a willow tree near a small creek. He began hallucinating the old woman in agony, his parents burning in the fire, and piles of human flesh with a sign saying "Daryl the Cannibal" near it. Wolf spiders crawled upon Daryl's skin as he slept, creating a glamorous web above his head.

The next morning Daryl arose and quickly began his jog to Yorkenstine as many hours and miles passed by as though he was riding on a freight train. He eventually made it into the city of Yorkenstine. As he entered the city, many people began giving him obscure stares. Daryl had forgotten about his bloody clothing. A middle aged man approached him and delightfully said "Sir are you okay? Are you hurt? Here follow me." The man said beckoning him to a miniature health facility. The health facility had turquoise painted walls with sea life sculptures as its main interior design. The main doctor, Dr. Chovez, appeared as a well known and liked man in the town. Daryl began wondering if they'd question him if he didn't have any wounds. Daryl turned to the receptionist at the entrance and asked where the restrooms were.

Daryl headed down the hall of the restrooms. Inside he sat in a stall and began formatting a plan to escape. He remembered he had slid the knife from the old woman's house into his jeans pocket, but that'd be kind of tough with thirty to forty people surrounding him. He left the restroom and saw a door nearby that said "Medical Staff Only", he entered the room.

The room was the gateway to heaven that Daryl had been looking for. The room held many medical supplies and amputation tools. Daryl rapidly searched for any kind of sickle, and finally stumbled upon one when the door flew open. It was a young man around what appeared to be the age of eighteen; he spoke up "Sir! You're not supposed to be in here—"the man didn't finish his word of though as Daryl jammed the sickle inside his abdomen and began ripping his intestines out. Daryl began feasting on his small intestine when a group of staff members appeared at the door.

The staff members had heard the ruckus and already had the police enforcement on their way. Daryl was held down by the strongest of the doctors as the police entered the building. During his handcuffing, an obese police man murmured "Son, your going to the Yorkenstine County Jail. You will have a courtroom date to testify you didn't do this, but with intestine spaghetti hanging from your mouth you probably won' win" his partner chuckled as they lifted Daryl from the ground smacking the back of his head to force the intestines out of his mouth.

They arrived at the Yorkenstine County Jail after a ten minute drive, and Daryl's head was shaved and his skin was branded with "#66635". The branding had left a large blister on his arm. He was thrown inside a medium sized cell block, with only a twin-sized bed and unremarkable toilet. He was scheduled with a courtroom date for tomorrow at 3 P.M, that'd give him time to contemplate a way out of this hell. A guard came walking by appearing like a vicious hellhound gnarling commands out to the prisoner across from Daryl. He approached Daryl in a more pleasant state and asked him what he would want for dinner between cinnamon-flavored oatmeal and apple sauce. The guard introduced himself as , and embarked his way back to his office.

As night approached and thousands of prisoners laid in their beds, Daryl sat up wondering just what he could do, _what could he do_?


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Note: Typed on phone on vacation

The next day arrived with the sounds of abstract, yet unpleasant out-of-tune instrumentation vibrating throughout the prison. Daryl lifted his head and glanced around at his cell looking for any escape routes. The escaping did not only consist of actually finding salvation through a tiny crevice, but also avoiding the tangible guards.

In the corner of the cell was an unsturdy bookcase containing an abundance of medical and law books.

Daryl carefully, even with a few books falling with ease, slid the bookcase over and found a small air vent with just enough to room to accompany his muscular body. Where did the vent lead?

The guards control room featured top of the line security cameras catching each movement by suspicious visitors or prisoners. The infrared lenses were built to withstand significant abuse. The guard leader's eyes rarely averted from the camera sights. Suspicious movements arose from a northeastern prisoner's cell as orders began to be placed.

Daryl began to remove the already weakened vent cover. The cover was carefully and quietly placed against the bookcase and squeezed himself through into the vent.

As he made his way through the vent, voices could be heard. It was guards. They appeared to be planning out their work days.

Around twenty guards raced to the now empty cell of prisoner #66635. Another couple guards ran toward the other end of the vent to welcome the mastermind.

Daryl kept hearing the clanking of guards keys against their belt buckles. The tarnished golden keys were too easy for Daryl's idea of escape, as he continued towards a bright vibrant light. He was almost outside.

As he got closer to the outside vent, a silhouette of manly boots stood with a voice screaming "Dixon I know you're in there! You can't escape you redneck violent bastard!'

Two guards began to appear into sight smoking what Daryl imagined were Marlboro lights. The smoke began to obtrude upon Daryl, making it difficult to breath in such a claustrophobic state. A craving for Newports began fluttering in his mind too.

He appeared closer to the vent bars trying to attract the guard's attention. The coaptation bars were unbendable for even a strong man like Daryl, so he had to count on a missed gunshot to loosen the vent's screws.

He began taunting the guards as they fired their pistols enough to remove the screws. Daryl pushed the vent door open, and rolled away from the guard's batons and gunfire. Daryl kicked the left guard in his knee causing him to land on his head and took his baton as he remained unconcious. The second guard approached and swung, Daryl ducking to avoid the head blow. Daryl swung bashing the remaining guard, and stole his pocket knife. Daryl opened the pocket knife and began removing the skin from his arms; chewing its tan texture.

The other guard awoke from unconciousness to a skinned guard mate, a missing prisoner, and an elusive flamboyant sunset of disparity.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The auburn leaves began their descend from the oak trees as Daryl entered a passageway into the forest. The southern winds graced his face as sweat fell like rain drops onto the pathway. In the distance, various walkers could be seen savaging a newborn fawn. The walkers hadn't even taken notice of Daryl's presence. He continued his walk until he reached a break with tall grasses and a small river filled with bluegill and other small amphibians.

Mosquitoes flew over the river's moonlight embracing the water and laying their eggs on the surface. Daryl began his firemaking process, swatting away the pest that encircled him. The fire arose from his fire pit and memories began appearing in his head as the great Orion smiled gracefully in the night sky.

Daryl's childhood friends used to share stories of family fishing trips, vacations, and reunions. Daryl had none of that, isolation and intense chores would take up much of his time.

Daryl let the memories escape him and begam dozing into a comfortable sleep. His dreams were that of a voyeurs. Bikini women graced down a beach shouting "Follow us Daryl, take our hand. We will let you..."

Daryl's laid with his eyes wide open and a string of blood dripping upon his face. Above him stood a middle-aged walker. Daryl popped up immediately , now noticing the walker was armless thankfully. As the walker began to follow Daryl, Daryl picked up a twig and sharpened the tip. He aimed and tossed the spearlike range weapon. The walker fell onto the ground and Daryl approached it seeing the twig had split on impact into its brain.

After the close encounter, Daryl began sharpening twigs and placing them into his back pocket as he continued his walk. On a willow tree about three feet ahead a black widow spider hung spelling languages into its web unbeknowst to mankind. Daryl was not concerned about being recaptured but knew he had to keep an eye out just in case.

In the distance, a rapturous baby bunny hopped enjoying the marvelous sunlight. Sapphire flowers emerged beside Daryl's walking path, a flower unknown to his knowledge. Walkers in the distance appeared with their diminished designer clothing that once were worn at ostentatious ballroom parties. The walk seemed to drag on and on. A dense fog circled around the landscape and up ahead Daryl could see a large brick building with smoke coming out of a large chimney.

As he approached the building he began to realize it was a religious private school, but why was it so distant from the rest of the world? Was there people inside?

Inching closer, the windows were boarded with maple planks and the front door had a speaker system that appeared fully intact and working. Daryl pressed the speaker and modestly said "Hello my names Daryl Dixon, I come to you with no harm."

The speaker with a staticy tone projected a male tone that said "Please wait as the front door opens sir,.you will be inspected. Please do not bring any food or drinks in. The staff are only allowed ..." the voice cut out. The voice seemed automated, but Daryl wasn't sure as the door opened like a majestic medieval castle and he stepped inside.

The entrance to the building contained religious crosses and ornaments that hung from the ceiling, oh how Daryl was feeling sacrilegious with the very first step. He ignored it, and continued into the first room and opened the door. Inside twenty kids and a teacher were conducting a lesson on a Bible verse and the teacher approached Daryl with a ruler. "Who are you? Are you the anti-christ? Look at your gothic style!" the teacher kept going on and on as the children watched patiently. Daryl spoke up "Ma'am I'm not conceding that I am the nicest fellow in the country, but please know that I bring no harm to you or your students." The teacher backed away and continued teaching as if nothing happened.

A few minutes passed and the class came to an end. The students rushed to the closets and began getting cleaning mops and brooms out. What kind of school children have afterschool chores? Suspicious thoughts began to overrun Daryl's brain.

As the teacher and the students began cleaning, Daryl exited through the door quietly. He continued down the hall making it into a large domed shape room with what appeared to be an unused ticket booth for the schools sporting events. As he began to walk further into the dome area, the doors and exits began to cave in with large steel sheets with the word "INTRUDER" spray painted across the northern wall. The circle in the center opened up like some sort of sci-fi movie, and a man with a long black leather cloak appeared. His hostile facial expression was unwelcoming.

"Welcome to the Academy of Christianity and Arts, I'm principal . Have you been given your chores?" the figure said with a cruel grin appearing across his face. Daryl was speechless, confined, and finally just said a quick welcoming. Veerex continued "We have a strict cleaning and feeding policy for our students and staff. We also do not allow windows to be open at any time. The dead is alive." the principal said with his eyes sort of turning clockwise as if the word "dead" startled him. Daryl finally had courage to speak, "Yeah I've had to kill some of the dead. We call them walkers, but have you guys had a food shortage or something? " Daryl said wondering if that was the reason the kids were fed strictly. "Why... yes that's why we do it sir. Now if you will follow me I'll show you to our condo area" the man said walking away. Daryl followed as his suspicious thoughts spiraled down into the cosmic cracks of the tile.

Veerex's cloak dragged along the tan tile as they walked into a room of vast historic relics. Veerex explained that they'd do field trips for the lower grades to this room to sort of keep the students more engaged in study and to cheer up some of the ones who lost their parents to the new world. The relics were enthralling, but Daryl was so ready for some privacy and suggested they keep moving.

The condos lied in a basement level and contained generators that ran year round on solar power. The receptionist at the desk quickly set up a room for Daryl and Veerex said his farewell as Daryl was now surrounded by new faces yet again.

Daryl found his room at the end of the hall. The room had a kitchen with one apple, a small box of whole grain cereal, a small carton of milk, and a slice of lemon pie. A note laid on the counter discussing that food was served once per day as long as you completed all of your cleaning chores by 6PM. The chores list was tedious but doable for someone like Daryl, so with no complaints he continued reading the rules. Only one rule stuck out to Daryl, no knives on campus. He'd forgotten about his pocket knife that for some reason the quick search never found.

He quickly removed his pocket knife and stuck it under a Bible in the upper drawer. The condos bathroom had a fully working timed shower, a toilet, and a sink with trial sized soaps and shampoos. The living room had a fourty-two inch plasma television with a Nintendo Wii and a Dell laptop on a small computer desk in the corner. This rooms notepad reminded you to not use the laptop or television for any anti-religious practices.

Daryl quickly felt at home, finishing his chores every day for a week but that quickly changed. On a Friday afternoon, a young teenaged female was being crucified for kissing a young man after class in the hallway. Daryl decided he was going to break free from such a psychotic place. As the nails were drove into her hands, Daryl escaped through an open door even leaving his forgotten knife behind.

Daryl just kept running as outdoor religious fanatics chased him down shouting "Blasphemy! Never leave our church!"

As the moonlight approached and thousand of growls sprawled out across the landscape. The nocturnal reveries still hummed in the wind and the journey continues on.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

NOTE: typed from phone

The night sky hung over Daryl's head as the school's nightmare was now becoming a thing of the past. The rocky trail lead towards a vivid dense woodland. Daryl began his journey yet again, through a vast greenery. Footprints slowly sprawling themselves like a sorrowful masquerade against the now muddy soil. Midnight skylines were rapidly approaching as Daryl found a small abandoned firepit twenty feet from the path. He prepared a fire as a family of cockroaches hissed ferocious songs into the horizon.

As the next day began its opening act, Daryl portrayed the prey and nature portrayed the predator. A violent thunderstorm made its way across the land. Daryl's feet sunk into the river of mud, as the walk now was almost unbearable for even a grown man.

After walking for what felt like three hours, Daryl approached an abandoned campsite filled with hunting equipment and mason jars containing rum.

The campsite appeared untouched, almost immaculate to Daryl. Daryl began a major search opening the first tent that was empty. He continued his search opening the second tent which contained a girl, around the age of eight or nine, whom appeared to dead by strangulation as a rope remained tight around her neck. She hadn't turned, but Daryl knew he had to do what was best which was to stab her brains in. He ran over to the hunting equipment and took a five inch Leatherman knife and returned to the tent.

Daryl kneeled down beside the breathless girl and began rapidly stabbing her, tears began dropping from his eyes. Blood covered Daryl, but the meat looked to delicious to waste. He began removing her arms and legs. Daryl used the smoking campfire pit in the campsite, prepared a fresh fire, and feasted on the moist human flesh for his midnight snack.

After a day and night of relaxation, Daryl continued down the path leaving the now savaged campsite behind. The road began to appear as a gothic novel, as souless suicidal bodies swang from the trees. Walkers feeding on some in the distance. Daryl began to pick up his pace, just in case any walkers would take notice of him. Through his eyes a tall black figure appeared up ahead.

As he got closer to the figure tightening his grip on his hunting knife, Daryl began calling out "Move out of my way and no one will get hurt!"

The figure lowered his hood showing his malicious smirk. It was Veerex.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The malignant stare that remained unbroken seemed to increase in hatred as Daryl couldn't begin to accept the fact that such a malevolent brute had followed him for the hundred of miles he had traveled.

A quick blink and Daryl had realized this wasn't a delusion. What could he do? Was there more of the school's demented men on the way to capture him?

"We meet again youngster" Veerex said with a royal aura surrounding his black cloak. Daryl stuttering in nervousness spoke an answer but it didn't seem to actually be hearable. Veerex stood with a pristine but haunting style and his blackened hair was more visible than ever. "Veerex, how did you know my exact route?" Daryl said with a curious look on his face. "Oh… my watchtower guards told me you're direction, and I seen you raided our campsite." Daryl hadn't even realized he had a watchtower, and a quick flashback of the murdered young girl began to piss Daryl off even more.

Veerex could sense the anger inside Daryl; a violent white smile that shined like diamonds was the only thing Veerex was willing to give Daryl. Daryl's anger wasn't going to solve any problems, so he began to think of happier times. Oh wait, those don't exist.

The forest now began to show the moon through its trees as midnight owls hooted as if they were worshipping the religious effigy that Veerex was holding high in the sky. A pendulum-designed cross with a rope striking letter D. Veerex explained that on the one hundredth strike that Daryl was going to be sacrificed to the gods.

Daryl's hands began to lose grip on his Leatherman as it escaped his hands falling to the ground. As he bent down to pick it up, two bodyguard sized men pounced on him knocking him to the ground and began tying rope around his wrist and ankles. He was captured.

Hours passed as they dragged Daryl along the hard rocky surface. The night sky shined bright orange and maroon as if otherworldly beings were sending galactic messages of comfort. No. It's probably hell's fires. Daryl was ready to be back at the school, unfortunately.

Daryl's pessimistic state of mind worsened once they reached the school's massive entrance. The atmosphere above was dangling rain clouds like tiny puppets, teasing a thunderstorm. Veerex motioned some sort of sign language to his guards and Daryl was lifted and thrown down a chute landing on broken glass. The glass was piercing through his flesh, but that was the least of his worries.

Through the sandstone walls of what Daryl sensed was a prison, he could hear the thunderstorm rip through the land. The loud majestic thunder that sounded like a bass drum wasn't the most pleasing reverberation echoing his ear drums. Footsteps began to replace the thunderous sounds as Veerex appeared from the corner. His appearance was almost that of a satanic worshipper, even though in his mind Daryl knew he prayed to some sort of higher divine man.

"Ah, it feels so nice to own a runaway again" Veerex said pausing. "Hopefully you obey me unlike the last one". Veerex continued pointed over to a human skull full of maggots.

Cobwebs embraced themselves to the ceiling as Daryl stood speechless with the ropes getting tighter and tighter. Veerex's deathless stare seemed magical under the glimmering prison lights.

Veerex walked away, where had he gone? Daryl's stare circled around the room which to him appeared to be getting smaller and smaller. Was he fainting? Was he experiencing delirium?

Daryl's eyes averted to the ground as memories of childhood returned to him. He remembered a blistering cold Christmas morning opening presents to find, coal. That's right; his childhood was like being a prisoner. As he raised his eyes from the ground, a giant bullwhip met his face.

Blinded by the whip's force for a couple of minutes, Daryl began attempting to roll out of the way of the whip. A slow roll caused the whip to strike his leg, and eventually his back. Daryl knew this could be his last day alive.

As the whip kept penetrating Daryl's body, a sign of hope came when Veerex's watchtower guard came running into the room to announce that someone had set fire to three classrooms and opened a door to let a couple of walkers into the building. As Veerex let out a sigh of anger, he flung the whip across the room. Daryl watched the guard and Veerex exit the room. Above Daryl's head he could hear running and the smell of smoke. He knew had to escape.

Daryl began to ascend to his feet as his muscles shot more excruciating pain. He began to hop the direction the guard and Veerex had gone, the door was wide open. He found a nearby hacksaw on a wooden bench and maneuvered himself to get a better grip of it with his teeth. He kneeled down, placing the saw between his two wrist and began to saw the rope. The saw slipped and a giant river of blood began to pour from his right palm, skin dangling as if it was a tanner's leather hanging off a workbench. He finally got both hands free from the ropes after several minutes and began work on the ropes around his ankles.

He was now emancipated from the vigorous, torturous bindings. He scanned the room looking any kind of weapon that may better aide him in his masterminding escape. He kept the hacksaw, and made his way through the open door and entered an exquisite hallway filled with oceanic sculptures and paintings.

He picked up his pace through the hall to avoid any hidden security cameras or other high-tech equipment that wasn't visible to the human eye. As he approached the corner the sound of footsteps rang in the hall, they seemed to be approaching. Veerex was coming, Daryl stood around the corner as he waited for the selfish bastard to take the turn. As he turned the corner, Daryl leaped out of the corner and swung the hacksaw as it sliced through Veerex's leg cutting deep into his flesh. Veerex let out an agonizing scream, which Daryl knew had to be silenced as quickly as possible. Daryl placed the hacksaw around Veerex's neck and began to slowly slice the rough blades through. Veerex laid decapitated, as Daryl began to remove his ears and nose as well. Daryl stored the nose and ears into his pocket feasting on the little meat he had gained as he made his way to escape.

The guards remained on the burning school's rooftop as the stagnant moon was the last for the school civilization. As the walls crumbled down, Daryl walked away after a second escape from hell.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The misty entrance of a crypt of a million sleeping children and nooses dangling from the wooden planks nailed to the wall, the surroundings now began fading as a light emerged from the corner of the labyrinth began to swallow itself. Daryl's feet were drenched in murky water as the dim torches shined with a haunting glow. The appearance of the unknown location appeared to be of a cave. Troglofauna began their quick escape away from Daryl's approaching feet, their copper bodies easily visible. Shadows embraced the wall appearing the size of hobgoblins and other folklore creatures that Daryl read as a child. That was one thing Daryl loved doing as a child after chores, reading. He would read Shakespeare, Poe, and many other influential writers.

As the cavern began to make a diverse junction, Daryl turned into a small entrance to the left. A glimmering room filled with flora and fauna brought happiness to the sorrowful mood of the previous room. Butterflies soared through the cavern walls and an enormous waterfall sprinkled the dry cavern soil. The room was a much better overall experience than the last room.

Daryl leaped into the waterfall and splashed like a toddler, he was going to enjoy the enchanting experience after all. Daryl rubbed his eyes and the ambiance of the room changed. The fauna were hanging from the ceiling with missing eyeballs, the flora was drained of life, and the waterfall poured animal blood to the floor. The ceiling began to rumble as a bright orange liquid began to drop making the sound of a sizzling frying pan. Daryl began to realize he was cursed and the haunting laughs of a mysterious creature were echoing from a distance.

The carcasses, the laughter, and the waterfall disappeared into an array of light. It was just a dream.

Daryl poignant face lifted as tears crashed into the muddy surface. Midway into the hillside landscape, larkspur blew in the wind as the full moon gave light for Daryl to continue his malicious journey.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Trails leading towards the morning sunrise led towards a nineteenth century industrial factory. Daryl remembered how his older cousin used to come home appearing as if he rolled in a pile of charcoal after a long day of work at their local factory. The fantasy dream had left his memory as his feet dug into the crevice of the soil. The factories windows had mosaic windows featuring a large tractor with the companies' name, Grandstage Storage and Processing. Daryl began to realize this was a franchise of the factory his cousin worked. Walkers in eyesight were banging on the front entrance of the rusted bronze doors. The entryway appeared dilapidated and unused for many years.

He scanned the area and realized that the backdoor was partially open. It appeared the factory may have been desolate for only a few months at this point. Daryl walked closer to the door, an American gang graffiti showing an anti-racism message shined itself across the buildings exterior back wall. He pressed his body against the door, his body heat causing more sweat to pour. He peeked into the door and slowly entered.

The ambiance of the room was echoing the sounds of a shrilling shriek. A few inches ahead a hornet was jabbing its stinger into a hopeless cicada. The dampness of the building caused mold to overtake its walls and a few muddy animal prints stained the floor. Daryl approached an abandoned management office, he realized the drawers were left open.

He began his detective search looking for any clues of where the hopeful survivor went, after all that'd be a delicious meal depending on size of course. He scanned for any identification cards and personal worker files. Nothing. "God dammit, the runaway bastard must of taken them" Daryl thought to himself with look of disappointment.

As the steel drawers remained open in the stagnant room, Daryl sat in the frail light room thinking over some plans. Should he be an thief of the a marketplace and steal? Should he just leave? As the questions remained, a cry for help came from a nearby hallway. Walkers were nearby.

A middle aged mother with a child in her arms around the age of six came running around the corner. A pack of walkers were following, Daryl knew he had to be humane at this point. He grabbed a lead pipe which laid upon a desk in the further back of the office. Out in the hall the mother had tripped and a walker was chewing into her ankle, Daryl rushed from the office and ran towards the savagery. The child began weeping as her mother was now being eaten alive in front of her. Daryl grabbed the child and stabbed the lead pipe through the walkers head. He ran a few inches ahead killing the rest of the walkers. He ran back to the devastated child kneeling down beside her dying mother. The mother spoke her final words, "Please take my child... to somewhere safe. Please...Her name is Tiffany...Plea..." the final please was a lost hope as the final breath exited from her body.

Daryl embraced Tiffany with a smile, but a violent, gory daydream began to overtake his mind. He pictured the sweet girl's moist meat brewing on an open fire. No, he needed to stop. The girl didn't deserve such a treacherous end.

Daryl grabbed the lead pipe and shoved it into Tiffany's mothers head, a pool of blood followed. Daryl picked up Tiffany, a shadow of a grown man holding a hopeless girl exited the moldy building.

Nightlife entertainment no longer exist in this world, only sorrow and brutality. Parents are lost in this world, tears fill the rivers and children are usually left abandoned. Daryl wouldn't let that happen, he prepared a savaged squirrel and sat Tiffany down for their first meal.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Two joyful souls laid upon the naked emerald grass as the sunlight reflected off wind turbines in the distance. Daryl's muscular arms were tightening around Tiffany, providing comfort and shielding her from any dangers that may approach. Tiffany held a graceful smile; her upper lip had a minor scratch which the cause was unknown. Daryl lifted his head and turn to Tiffany to say a couple of words.

"Tiffany, you'll be okay. You can call me dad if you'd like" Daryl said with a miraculous glistening white smile. A group of rambunctious frogs in a pond five feet ahead sang distorted ribbits similar to an out-of-tune quartet. Tiffany turned to Daryl and softly said, "Okay Daddy".

Daryl's hunting and cleaning skills were now a necessity to provide a healthy and well maintained life for the two of them. Walkers would sway with their odorous bodies nearby; Tiffany would eventually learn to not even move. Daryl knew the current location wouldn't last in terms of surviving, so he prepared to set foot again for a new destination. As they approached an opening into the woods, Tiffany tripped over a large oak tree log causing excruciating pain in her ankle. Daryl examined the log, it was freshly cut. _How could a lumberjack still be cutting trees down in the middle of a zombie apocalypse?_ Tiffany's ankle appeared broke as she slowly scooted to the side of the path.

Daryl leaned down beside Tiffany; he felt his emotional instincts began to get the best of him. Tiffany began to weep as the pain worsened; her bone was sticking out a couple of inches from her skin. Daryl dug into his pockets and grabbed a bandana that he had brought along and began to wrap her ankle. A vivacious dad and daughter moment quickly turned into a blood massacre as a swarm of walkers came rushing towards the hopeless girl. Three walkers distracted Daryl's attention, as a walker grabbed Tiffany's arm and began eating her despondent soul.

As hours passed, Daryl laid over the lifeless little girl that he had placed on a tree trunk. Daryl had a miniature funeral and lodged a sharpened twig through her skull. The moonlight reflected off her face and the owls in the distance remained silent as a sign of courtesy. The buzzing mosquitos soared around Daryl in hopes of a bloodsucking adventure. Daryl's head remained hung over in despair; his life seemed to be dwindling from a string as a thunderstorm began to approach overhead.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Daryl remained near the breathless body of the girl until dawn approached. The hopes of some sort of ritual shaman for resurrection remained in Daryl's mind, but the hope was being buried alive. Daryl's personality was beginning to become coy, almost as if he'd changed into a totally new person. His thought of murdering innocent human beings was being demolished, but his hunger level was thinking the opposite direction. Daryl examined the imaginary devil and angel sitting on his shoulder telling him which direction to take. He chose the devil.

On a nearby path, Daryl noticed a small pearl necklace with the name Tiffany etched into it. _The walkers must have ripped it from her neck. _The remembrance of the girl's struggle came back to Daryl as despair lingered into the cirrus clouds. An average size cabin appeared in the distance; Daryl made his way towards it.

The cabin's eloquence was beyond what Daryl had seen since the school's interior. On a cupboard, argent coins were gently lying on a model longboat which appeared untouched. The cabin was powered by a generator and the kitchen hadn't been touched in what appeared to be several months. On the counter a large book entitled _Requiem for My Dying Heart_ laid with uncompleted pages. Daryl began reading the mysterious book.

"_April 16, 2016_

_ This story will be the tale of my struggles with the forever changing world in which my body will soon rest in. The forest animals tell me that the masquerade of the devil's marching band will approach my front door within the dusk of June 21, 2016. I may sound crazy, but anyone who finds this needs to run. Run far away from these hellish lands. _

_ April 17, 2016_

_ I'm beginning to realize that the monsters roaming the land like human flesh more than any other source of meat. I was mildly bitten while throwing some garbage outside in my garden. At least the coons can't get my garbage now._

_ May 17, 2016_

_ It's been a month since I've wrote in this, my life appears to be draining into a drain of desolation. I can no longer believe that any of my family or friends will come rescue me at this point, hell they probably won't find this book. I might as well prepare an elegy. _

_ June 15, 2016_

_ I'm leaving these lands to be savaged by the brutes that inherit this land. I'll leave tomorrow morning before the banshees have time to sing my requiem, god bless their beautiful souls. "_

Daryl placed the book down; anxiety began to kick in as he realized he was standing exactly where the man had stepped foot. Daryl walked out to the garden, the hole was filled with decayed food and packaging. No signs of any recent visitors were in sight; Daryl began to wonder if he could possibly just make a home in this location, just like the predecessor.

A fierce, vociferous bang came from behind Daryl. The pots in the kitchen had fallen, but there was no sign of movement and the weather was calm. Daryl's eyes bolted from left to right, who was inside the house?


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The noise was startling and Daryl knew there wasn't much he could do if someone had broken into the house at this point. He didn't know where any kind of weaponry was. He glanced around the corner as tension began to rise. _No one._

Nightfall came with the cries of desperate shrilling wolf howls. Daryl sat at the dining room table, his eyes still glancing back and forth for any signs of movement. Daryl flicked on the lightning system which the generator disagreed with. Southwestern breezes came into the house opening the book from earlier in the day, there were more pages. Daryl examined the calligraphy:

"_This last page is to tell you something special about me. You may read that I was bitten from a walker; well I'm the only known immune human to a walker bite. If you are reading this, I am watching you." _

As Daryl caught his breath, he continued:

"_I will not allow intruders into my home; I'm not a nice fellow. I won't let you escape my dear intruder. I'm hiding from you as we speak, but don't forget I'm watching so don't run. DO NOT RUN."_

As Daryl closed the book his eyes paced around the room looking for any signs of the man. _How in the hell is he immune to walkers? And why did he write a suicide book, was it to make me stay? _Daryl cleared his thought process and got up to open the kitchen cabinet. _CRASH!_

Daryl turned around, a giant urn remained shattered with the ashes of a hopeless soul scattered upon the cabins floor. Daryl ignored the taunting and began opening the kitchen cabinets hoping to find some sort of weaponry as the sound of footsteps increased above him. _How in the hell is there footsteps above me when there's not a second floor?_

In the second cabinet a small, but useful, machete laid peacefully untouched. Daryl grabbed the handle of the machete and made his way looking through the house. As Daryl glanced at each part of the ceiling of the house, he could not a find any kind of mechanic system or trapdoor that could lead to an attic or small unknown room. The search continued until footsteps hit the floor behind him.

As Daryl spun around, almost losing his footing, a large bearded man stood with plaid shirt and overalls. "Didn't ya'll read the note?" the man said as he began to approach Daryl. At this rate, a shotgun was clearly visible in the man's left hand. Daryl modestly said "I'm not here to harm you or your house, I just happened to be walking the woods yesterday and stopped here than saw your note and I felt horrible for you!" Daryl stopped as the man's facial expression changed. "I know who you are. Do you remember me?" The man said showcasing what appeared to be a manly version of puppy eyes. "No, I apologize I don't." Daryl examined the man closer than changed his answer, "Oh, You're my uncle Randy!" Daryl said as his eyes rose in bliss. "Yes I am, and I HATE YOUR FUCKING GUTS!" Randy said as he raised his gun to Daryl's forehead. "Uhh, Uncle Randy are you okay? What'd I do to you?" "You twerp! You killed my brother, your own mother, you're a Satanist! You need to burn in hell just like those damn walkers that killed the rest of our family! BURN! BURN! BURN!" Randy said as his face darkened to a shade of red. "Uncle Randy…." Daryl paused there just wasn't much he could say to defend himself at this rate. Randy raised his gun back to Daryl's forehead and quietly said "Any last words?"

There's no hope for a pilgrimage, no hope for the good or evil. It's now December and two bodies are being feasted upon by ravens and walkers. Both took a bullet, both took lives. Hell has arisen to awaken more dead, and the devils laughter can be heard for miles. The immaculate forest are now burning in despair, the world's once blissful spin has come to a halt. As meteors strike the Earth's surface, the dead still remain and the end of the world has finally arrived.

The End.


End file.
